


Voyeuristic Pleasures

by Mochas N Mayhem (KoohiiCafe)



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fisting, BDSM, Dom/sub, F/M, Fisting, M/M, Prompt Fic, Rope Bondage, Shibari, Spoilers, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 11:07:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12210030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoohiiCafe/pseuds/Mochas%20N%20Mayhem
Summary: Ginger Ale was no stranger to the sounds of someone in the throes of lovemaking; she’d ridden shotgun to more seductions and honeypot missions in her time as a handler than she could honestly be bothered to count. Normally, however, when she had heard such sounds while within the boundaries of the Statesman Distillery, it had been through her earpiece as one of her agents conquered their target.





	Voyeuristic Pleasures

**Author's Note:**

> This was _not_ what I sat down to write tonight, after going to see the new movie. I wasn't even intending to write anything to do with the new movie, I was just going to work on one of two WIPs I have. But then I saw [this](https://kingsman-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/454.html?thread=9158#cmt9158) prompt, and suddenly this fic started writing itself in my head, so.  >.> Here it is.
> 
> Unbeta'd cause my wife hasn't seen the movie yet, so, I apologize for any mistakes!

Agent Whiskey, formerly known as Ginger Ale, was no stranger to the sounds of someone in the throes of lovemaking; she’d ridden shotgun to more seductions and honeypot missions in her time as a handler than she could honestly be bothered to count. Normally, however, when she had heard such sounds while within the boundaries of the Statesman Distillery, it had been through her earpiece as one of her agents conquered their target. Hearing them through some not inconsiderably thick walls as she made her way down a hall deep within the facility?

Whiskey paused, her brow furrowing, and the sharp clack of her heels paused with her, leaving her…. Not in silence, no. Rather, from through the wall just to her right, there came a long drawn out _keen_ , almost but not quite a wail, a sound full of clear need and desperation. There was a pause after it, a moment of silence during which a shudder ran down her spine, and the low groan that followed it curled and coiled its way after the shudder, stirring something deep within her belly. She turned, looking towards the wall from which the sounds had come; there was a door, just to the right, closed shut tight, but not locked. Another door, to the left, was open just the slightest fraction; as she looked at it, another, different, groan drifted through the crack. Her eyes narrowed and, without stopping to think about what she was about to do, she moved towards the door to the left. She was silent as she pushed it open just enough to slip inside, closing and locking it behind her without taking her eyes off the scene within.

Tequila sat in one of the chairs facing the large one-way mirror that dominated the right wall; he was reclined back as far as he could be in the chair, booted feet spread wide, jeans undone and shoved halfway down his thighs; his cock jutted out from where he’d freed it from the confines of his boxers, and he was stroking himself with a slow, steady pace that matched the sounds coming from beyond the glass; his eyes were trained steadily on whatever sight lay through the glass, his breathing low and heavy with arousal. She knew he must have heard her enter, he was far too observant to have missed it, but he gave absolutely no acknowledgement of her. Whiskey pursed her lips.

“ _Stop_.” Her voice was sharp, even, and Tequila’s hand stilled immediately, his breath catching as his head jerked over to turn towards her. His pupils were blown with desire, and he licked his lips slowly as he visibly pulled his attention from the glass and onto her.

“Ging- Whiskey,” he started, his voice slightly slow as he corrected himself. She arched an eyebrow.

“Enjoying yourself?” She crossed her arms over her chest, cocking her head slightly as she waited for an answer. Another high keen from beyond the glass split the quiet moment it took him to reply.

“You don’t approve?” The words were a challenge, and Tequila cocked his head right back at her. Those hazel green eyes of his met her own steadily as he began to stroke himself once more. “I seem to remember that you _like_ watching.”

“Did I say you could start again?” The tone was prim, without bite; he stilled once more all the same, long trained for obedience when it came to the voice of his handler. Former handler. _Her_. “Good boy.”

Tequila groaned in response, and it was in sync with a groan from behind the glass. Whiskey allowed herself a moment to look away from her former agent, to the scene that awaited in the next room.

It was Galahad- the younger of the two- who was lain on the bed within the padded room that had once belonged to Galahad Sr. Somewhere, she didn’t question where, the older gentleman had recovered some rope and the bindings that went with the bed, and he and his Merlin- and there was no question that Merlin belonged to him, as he belonged to Merlin and as the younger Galahad belonged to them both- had trussed up their young boy artfully and securely. His arms were decorated with lovely shibari knotwork that connected the spread limbs with his body in a laced pattern that looked perfectly at home amidst the carefully done drawings of butterflies all over the walls; his legs were spread as well, held aloft in a set of stirrup-like bindings that connected to the bed. Between his legs, knelt down on the floor, Merlin was perfectly focused on whatever task he had set himself, his hand and arm disappearing behind Galahad the younger’s legs; he made some motion as she watched, that she couldn’t fully see, and the young agent gasped loudly, his entire body shifting with it, his mouth gaping open. Galahad Sr, Harry, smirked from where he stood at the younger man’s chest, and slid two fingers between his spread lips; the younger man closed them as if the act was instinctual, and his cheeks hollowed as he suckled at the fingers.

“They know we’re here.” The sound of Tequila’s voice drew her gaze back to him; it was a protest, almost a pouting grumble, but his hand remained still, his eyes moving back and forth between Whiskey and the one-way mirror.

“Did they tell you that themselves?” she asked, her own gaze remaining steady on the other agent. He shifted, a not quite guilty look crossing his face briefly before disappearing quickly. “Hands off.”

“They know it’s a one-way mirror,” he said in lieu of an answer, even as he pulled his hand from his cock. “Galahad and I were supposed to meet in here half an hour ago. And they’d already gotten started when I got here.”

“I see.”

And she did. She and Merlin had had a few discussions about what it was like to be a handler on certain types of missions. Kingsman, it seemed, didn’t do as many thorough seductions as the Statesman did, but according to the Scot, he’d seen his own fair share of agents in bed. Like her, she’d found, he sometimes enjoying watching; he’d also told her that sometimes he enjoyed _being_ watched. Now, apparently, was one of those times.

“You can touch yourself, Tequila,” she told him, and immediately he was wrapping those skilled fingers of his around his cock. “But you are _not_ to come before Galahad does.”

“Aww, _shit_ ,” he swore, his breath hitching at the command. Whiskey smirked.

“I take it he hasn’t been allowed to come?” she asked teasingly. Tequila swore again, under his breath, and protested,

“C’mon Ginger, you can’t be serious! He’s-”

Tequila cut off mid-sentence, immediately realizing his mistake. Whiskey was at his side in a split second, taking his chin in her hand and tilting his head up to look at her. Her voice soft as she asked;

“I’m sorry, who?”

“Whiskey! Shit, I mean Whiskey!” His eyes were wide, full of need, his voice thick with his arousal, as he stared up at her, his mouth open as he panted heavily. She ran her thumb over his lower lip and, mirroring the younger Galahad, he shifted to draw it into his mouth, suckling at it.

“Very good, Tequila,” she praised him softly, and he moaned around her thumb, swirling his tongue along the pad of it. Whiskey smiled. “You may come if and only when Galahad does. Is that understood?”

Tequila nodded, scraping lightly at the pad of her thumb with his teeth in agreement. She withdrew the digit easily and, running her hand through his hair fondly, stepped back and away, shifting to find a good vantage point to watch Tequila and the Kingsman agents both.

This was different, she mused, than watching and listening through an agent’s feed. For one, she could see _everyone_ , if not from every angle as she might have with cameras when available. For two, there was the wetness of her thumb from where Tequila had sucked at it, and the knowledge that if she wanted more, he was mere feet away from her. The knowledge that he was physically present, ready and willing and waiting for her command.

Maybe another time. Because there would be other times now, now that she was an agent, now that she would have more chance to be physically with the others. Maybe when it was just she and one of her agents, and not when the Kingsman were visiting and present. Because for now, _they_ were the main show, their young agent so perfectly on display, the three of them so clearly happy to perform for the pleasure of all.

And it was certainly a pleasure to watch. From her new vantage point, Whiskey had a much better view of exactly what Merlin was doing between the young Galahad’s spread legs, and it was a sight that caused her to gasp softly; he was _fisting_ the younger man, his hand buried to the wrist within him, and it was clear that even the slightest movement Merlin made had a very large effect on Galahad. As she watched, Merlin shifted just barely, almost too little to even see, and it left the young man jolting and gasping around Harry’s fingers, his cock jerking where it was wrapped in artfully done knots. Tequila groaned in response, his hand speeding as he stroked himself. She watched as he swirled his thumb around the head of his cock, swiping it along the slit where he was leaking heavily, and she ordered gently,

“Taste yourself.”

“Yes ma’am,” he answered, his voice thick, and then he was switching hands; he stroked himself with his left then, as he brought his right up so that he could swipe his tongue over the precum painting the pad of his thumb. Unconsciously she found herself licking at her own lips, as if she could taste it herself, and then he was reaching down again.

A whimper brought her attention back to the glass, and as she looked to the Kingsman, it was to find that Harry had withdrawn his fingers from Galahad’s mouth. He was unbuttoning and unzipping his pants instead, freeing his engorged cock from it’s bulletproof fabric confines. He wasted no time in beginning to stroke himself, hard and fast, and it was clear that he wouldn’t take long to bring himself to orgasm, not if the wideness of his remaining eye, if the way his pupil was heavily dilated, his breathing heavy, were any indications. On the bed, Galahad tried to shift, his head raising, mouth panting and open, his eyes locked onto Harry’s cock, and the longing on his face…. It was so _pure_ , so intense, so full of _need_ ….

She could hear Tequila, could hear the way his pace sped, the sound of his hand racing up and down his cock in sync with Harry’s pace, but- she couldn’t look away from Galahad. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the look on his face, from his desperation and desire and sheer _love_. He was whimpering, pleading with the older men, shifting in his bonds, and even just the tone of his voice conveyed how utterly, _utterly_ fallen he was with them both, how much he _needed and loved_ them. She watched, as Harry stroked himself closer and closer to completion. As Merlin shifted his fist within Galahad, as he reached with his free hand to wrap long fingers around the boy’s rope caged cock. And she watched as Harry moaned sharply, as he came with a sharp shuddering, spilling himself across Galahad’s bare stomach. As Galahad’s entire body tensed, as he cried out and shook through a clearly full-body orgasm, spasming with his release. As Tequila’s voice joined in, groaning as he brought himself to release sitting there in his chair, watching the Kingsman just as she was.

Only Whiskey and Merlin remained then. Tequila slumped in his chair; Galahad went limp where he lay; Harry supported himself with one hand on the edge of the bed; Merlin turned his head to the glass and seemed to meet her gaze through the one-way mirror. There was something unspoken in his eyes, mixed in with a turmoil of pleasure and proud possessiveness, and then all his attention was upon his partners as he began to carefully work his hand free from his boy.

Whiskey closed her eyes. She took a moment for herself, inhaling deeply. Savoring the scent of Tequila so close, the scent that was pure male, pure sex. Savoring the memory of what she’d seen, what she’d experienced. Savoring the way her own arousal simmered heatedly in her belly, lingering hot and full of pleasure and desire. When she was ready, she slid her eyes open, moving with precision to find the control for the one-way mirror to click it off. She turned then to Tequila, and he met her gaze with his own, smiling rakishly and quipping,

“Maybe next time, little more of you ‘n me, huh?”

“Maybe,” she agreed, smirking a little. “Clean this room up before you leave. Wouldn’t want anyone else figuring out what you were up to in here, would you?”

“Hey,” he protested, playfully wounded. “I’m a professional.”

“Mmm hmmm,” she replied, clearly and playfully doubting, and turned on heel to leave. She had a meeting with Champ in an hour, and she needed to prepare. And before that meeting, well. She had something personal to take care of. Something that involved a little bit of private time, and a lot of remembering the beautifully intimate moment she’d just enjoyed.

**Author's Note:**

> To anon prompter, if you read this, I hope this fulfilled what you were looking for! It wandered a bit away from PDA, I know, and idk where Tequilla came from, or how he ended up in that room, I originally just had Ginger in mind, but. XD The fic wrote itself.


End file.
